The conquest of Gaul
- Автор: Turney S. J. A.
- Серия: Marius mules #1
- Год: 2011
- Язык: голландский
- Жанр: Исторические приключения
Электронная книга - «The conquest of Gaul». Краткое содержание книги:
Fronto, Balbus and Velius hauled themselves up on to their mounts and joined the already seated Procillus and Mettius.
“Let’s go.”
The column left at a gentle walk through the north gate of the camp, Velius shouting commands at the men, Fronto muttering and the two ambassadors whistling a catchy and happy tune.
It was early afternoon in a defile between two ridges when Fronto felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. He pulled his horse forward to fall in line beside Balbus.
“Quintus?”
“Hmm?” Balbus turned his head lazily, a happy smile gracing his lined face.
“How far do you think we are from the German camp yet?”
Balbus shrugged.
“According to the last reports, it should be about seven miles away I should think.”
Fronto lowered his voice.
“If that’s the case, their pickets are a long way out aren’t they?”
As Balbus raised an eyebrow, Fronto leaned slightly closer.
“I’ve seen men moving in a dozen places while we’ve been speaking. I have a bad feeling about this.”
Balbus glanced ahead to where Procillus and Mettius rode side by side chatting, and whispered back.
“We need to pull the ambassadors back then, into the protection of the cavalry.”
Fronto nodded.
“Damn that Caesar. We’re not allowed to fight them. I’ll move slowly and casually ahead and get the others back with us.”
Balbus nodded and slowed his pace slightly, allowing Velius and the guard to catch up with him.
“Velius? There’s men around us.”
Velius nodded with the slightest movement.
“I’ve been watching them for a while. There’s got to be at least a hundred of them. Germans. What do we do, sir?”
“Fronto’s gone ahead to get the ambassadors. I think you need to pull the column into a four-by-five formation. Two lines is too flimsy if we’re attacked. Once they’re back, we’ll get them in the middle of the column and move on. If we meet too much resistance, we’ll turn round.”
A shout from ahead caught their attention, and they glanced up to see Fronto and the two ambassadors unhorsed. Balbus turned and cried to the troops.
“To arms, four columns and…”
His sentence uncompleted, the legate was hurled from his horse as it reared. Men on either side of the defile had hauled on ropes and the lines had tightened and rose, sometimes under the horses’ bellies, sometimes across their chests. As Balbus rolled painfully and came up to his feet, he realised that the whole column was in turmoil, horses rearing and wheeling, some riders unhorsed, others clinging on for dear life. He looked around quickly until he saw Velius, also climbing to his feet.
“Centurion! Help me cut these ropes.”
Velius staggered round for a moment, dazed, before drawing his blade and laying into the ropes that had halted the column. Near him, Balbus sawed at ropes. Gradually the cavalry untangled themselves and remounted. Fortunately, the Germans seemed to be interested only in stopping the unit, and not a single warrior entered the defile.
Balbus reared up suddenly and turned to look ahead. There was no sign of Mettius or of Procillus, and the figure of Fronto lay in a heap in the middle of the path. Balbus started to run. Moments later Velius overtook him and the thundering of hooves announced the cavalry.
Balbus was still second to reach Fronto, though Velius was already crouched over him.
“He’s alive, but there’s a lot of blood.”
One of the cavalry dismounted and rushed over.
“He’s quite stable, but we need to get him back as soon as possible. He’s had a nasty gash to his leg, probably tipped him out of his saddle and there’s a fairly nasty wound on his skull from where he landed.”
Balbus squinted at the man in the bright sunlight.
“You’re a capsarius?”
“Yes sir.”
“Take my horse. Get him back to the camp immediately.”
He turned to face the centurion.
“Velius, you go with him. Get him back and tended. The rest of us are going to check around and see if we can find out what happened.”
Velius nodded and, helping the capsarius manhandle Fronto onto the legate’s horse, he turned to face Balbus as he began to mount.
“Be very careful sir. This was organised well in advance, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they hadn’t moved their camp closer to us. You could wander into it without even realising in these hills.”
Balbus smiled.
“I know what I’m doing, Velius. I’m no green recruit. Just take care of Fronto.”
He turned and walked off down the defile, followed by the cavalry leading their horses, as Velius and the capsarius led Fronto back toward the legions.
Chapter 18
(In camp between Vesontio and the Rhine)
“ Fossa: Defensive ditches, such as those constructed round a Roman camp or fort.”
Fronto reached gingerly to the back of his head and prodded the wound. Shining shards of glass exploded in his brain and he almost blacked out. Leaning forward with his hands on his knees he vomited copiously on the tent floor before Florus could get to him with the bowl. The young capsarius had insisted on dealing with the legate personally.
“With all due respect, sir, if you keep prodding it, you’re going to pull your brain out soon!”
Velius frowned at the young man.
“What is it with you medical types? You were a nice quiet lad when you were a legionary. Now you’re a capsarius, you’d talk down to a bloody God!”
Florus turned to the centurion.
“Why are you here again, sir?”
Velius harrumphed but fell quiet. One of the senior doctors had already ejected him from the tent twice. The sound of voices outside came to his attention and moments later the tent flap was hauled back and Balbus, Caesar and Longinus entered.
“Fronto, you look terrible.”
Velius grinned.
“He just tried to stir his brain with his finger, sir.”
Longinus smiled.
“I brought you some wine, but I think I should keep it for a day or two until you’re a bit better.”
Caesar looked down at the capsarius as he finished cleaning up and rose.
“How is he? Is he going to be fit for active duty soon or is he out of action now until next season?”
Florus looked up at Caesar. Gone was his wide eyed deferential shyness. This Florus was far removed from the young man on the hill before the battle with the Helvetii. Months of dealing with horrifying wounds, up to his elbows in blood and guts had hardened him. He regarded Caesar with a very professional look.
“It appears worse than it is sir. In a couple of days he’ll think he’s invincible again. The actual physical damage is remarkably light. He’ll have a slight limp with the wound on his leg, but it should barely slow him down. The blow to the head created a hairline fracture, but doesn’t appear to have done too much. The bone’s thicker there for some reason, and it seems to have helped protect him.”
Velius grimaced. He remembered the day Fronto had found the body of Cominius and the blow he’d received when he slipped on the blood. He looked up as Florus was still talking.
“Now he’s mostly suffering from a concussion. It’ll be at least a day before he starts making real sense.”
Longinus laughed.
“My dear doctor, you don’t know Fronto. It’ll be a miracle if he does make sense; he’s never done it before!”
Caesar smiled down at the wounded legate, who was gazing in a confused way at his own knees. He had started to drool a little.
“Well I was thinking I’d best update Fronto with what we know, but I’d obviously better leave that until later.”